


Love Notes

by PJO_Connoisseur



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV 2020)
Genre: Alex Mercer Has Anxiety (Julie and the Phantoms), Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:02:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29847477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PJO_Connoisseur/pseuds/PJO_Connoisseur
Summary: After Reggie complains about his lackluster Valentine's Days of years past, Luke and Bobby convince Alex to make this year the exception for him. Anonymously, of course. He's not about to sign the love notes to his crush.
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 41





	1. February 9th

**Author's Note:**

> Don't mind me, finally posting again after almost four months of absence. College and the pandemic have been kicking my butt. Plus, my first multi-chapter fic for this fandom! I hope you enjoy the story.

Luke is the reason the conversation came up in the first place. If anyone were to ask Alex, which no one ever does despite him usually being right, Luke is the reason most problems arise. Okay, so maybe that’s an exaggeration. But this time it really is Luke’s fault.

Alex, Reggie, Luke, and Bobby were sitting around in the studio after practice. Alex was on the couch with Reggie laying with his head in Alex’s lap, his legs over the opposite arm of the couch, because Reggie did not know how to sit on furniture. This detail should have but hadn’t been an early indication of how bisexual he turned out to be. Alex was absently fiddling with Reggie’s hair both because Reggie found it comforting and because Alex himself was calmed down by it. Bobby, meanwhile, was sitting across from them in a lawn chair he probably-but-won’t-admit-it stole, shooting him the occasional knowing smile. Alex would have regretted telling Bobby about his festering crush, but Alex hadn’t even told him. Bobby had just figured it out like the perceptive asshole he was. Reggie missed the meaningful glances they shared because his eyes were closed, but Luke missed it because he was in the other probably-stolen-but-Bobby-won’t-admit-it lawn chair, absently strumming as he pondered something that eluded his bandmates.

Luke’s uncharacteristic thoughtfulness should have clued Alex in that something terrible was about to happen, and in another reality where he wasn’t distracted by Reggie’s satisfied humming it did, but in this reality he was taken completely off-guard when Luke said, “I’ve never been in a relationship on Valentine’s Day.”

And, okay, maybe what Luke said was totally innocuous, but it sparked the offending conversation nonetheless. Big domino effects can be set off by a small domino. Luke’s innocent comment was that small domino, and therefore Alex has every right to blame him in retrospect.

Bobby gave Luke an unimpressed look. “You’ve had a date every time, though.”

Luke pouted. “It’s not the same.”

Reggie opened his eyes and shifted to sit up, leaving Alex’s hands strikingly empty. He shoved them in the pockets of his sweatshirt to ignore the feeling. 

“Neither of you can talk,” Reggie said. “You always get asked out for Valentine’s Day or love notes in your locker. I’ve never had anything like that.”

Alex raised his eyebrows. “Really? But you’re so--” He cut himself off from diving straight into dangerous territory.

“I’m so what?” Reggie said, as curious as he was skeptical.

Alex’s mouth was dry. There were lots of honest ways to finish that sentence. Sweet. Funny. Likeable. Pretty. But all of those were the dangerous territory, so what he actually said was, “Popular.” Which, technically, was true. Now that Sunset Curve was finding a fanbase in their school after becoming the regular band for dances, all four boys had gained a reputation. People who had never noticed them before now knew their names and faces, which led to many dates for Luke and Bobby, a few for Alex, and... Now that Alex was thinking about it, Reggie never talked about anyone hitting on him because of the band, and he knew he’d made a mistake.

Reggie turned away from Alex, but not quickly enough for Alex to miss the hurt frown. “Not like you guys,” he mumbled, trying to downplay the tinge of jealousy. “When they want to date a rockstar, I’m not the one they go for.”

Alex opened his mouth, wanting to argue, but he couldn’t, because Reggie was kind of right. Luke and Bobby were the most traditional rockstars, and when they were too intense, Alex was next in line. Only Alex had been rejecting the few that asked him out for months now because there was only one person he wanted, the person who right now looked like a kicked puppy. Alex didn’t understand why Reggie didn’t get the same attention as he, Luke, and Bobby did. While Luke was the core of the band in overt ways, Reggie felt like the heart of it in a lot of smaller ways, and Alex ached knowing that Reggie didn’t get that recognition.

Alex reached over, giving Reggie’s hand a squeeze. “You’ll find someone who appreciates you. Who knows? Maybe this year will be different.” Right then the seed was planted--the idea that _he_ could be the one to make this year different. It was a stupid thought, gone as quickly as it came. When Reggie imagined someone sweeping him off his feet for Valentine's Day, Alex wasn’t the one he pictured doing it. And that was fine. Really.

To Alex’s disappointment, Reggie pulled his hand away. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s a Hallmark holiday anyway.”

And he was right, technically. Valentine’s Day was just a tactic for selling chocolates and stuffed animals and balloons and cards, and solid couples made sure to treat each other all year round, and the whole thing was over-blown and prioritized romantic love over platonic love. In a lot of ways the whole thing was superficial. But even so, Alex could tell Reggie was bothered despite knowing all those things.

“I’ve got homework to do,” Reggie said, standing with a forced smile as he grabbed his backpack. “See you guys tomorrow.” He left, with half-hearted goodbyes from his friends following after.

When Alex managed to peel his gaze from the now empty doorway, Luke and Bobby were looking at him expectantly. Luke’s eyes were sparkling, while Bobby’s mouth was set in a mischievous smirk. “What?” Alex said, suspicious.

Luke and Bobby exchanged a look before returning their gazes to Alex. Luke said, “You gonna do anything about your boy’s Valentine’s blues?”

Alex flushed. “He’s not _my_ anything.”

“He’s your crush,” Bobby piped up. “And the opportunity is staring at you.”

“ _What_ opportunity?” Alex said, half knowing what Bobby meant but hoping they’d back off this topic.

Luke sighed, setting aside his guitar and leaning forward in his lawn chair. “Alex. You’ve liked him for months. Do something cheesy for Valentine’s Day. He’ll love it.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Not from me he won’t.”

Bobby huffed. “Will you just confess already? Whenever he uses you as a pillow you get this dreamy look in your eye, and if I see it happen one more time when you guys aren’t dating, I’m going to ban you from the studio.”

“I’m not the grand gesture type,” Alex said. “And even if I was, I would like to refer you back to when I said he doesn’t want that from _me_.”

Luke and Bobby shared another look, Alex’s jaw tightening at the sight. Sometimes he really hated all the silent languages that had formed between certain band members. Was he being a hypocrite, having his own system with each of them? Yes. Was that going to stop him from being bitter about it? Absolutely not.

“Look,” Bobby said, reverting to his diplomatic tone. The girls who fawned over Bobby-the-enigma would never guess he had a diplomatic tone. “You’re always saying you don’t want to tell him because direct confrontation makes you anxious and you won’t go through with it. Here’s an opportunity to alleviate some of the pressure.” At Alex’s confused face, Bobby rolled his eyes. “Love notes, ‘Lex. Write him love notes.”

Alex’s face warmed. “No. Luke is good with deep words and you’re good at waxing sonnets about every new person you flirt with, but I’m not you guys. Not to mention how embarrassing that would be.”

“Feelings aren’t embarrassing, man,” Luke said. “I think gender roles are addling your brain.”

Bobby pointed at Luke in agreement.

“Since when do you use words like ‘addling’?” Alex said.

“You’re dodging the topic,” Luke said with a smirk. “We can help you with the words if you want.”

The heat in Alex’s face multiplied ten-fold and spread down his neck. “That sounds worse than death, actually.”

Bobby crossed his arms. “I hope you mean that, because if you don’t resolve this pretty soon, I’m going to kill you.”

Alex stood. “I _am_ resolving it, okay? There’s been no indication Reggie likes me like that, and it’s fine, so I’m just going to let the feelings die on their own.”

Luke and Bobby looked at each other, and this pattern was rendering Alex also ready to commit a murder. Bobby sighed. “Fine, Alex. Do whatever you want.”

Alex eyed him skeptically. “You mean that? You’ll leave it alone?”

“Yep,” Luke said, popping the p.

Alex glanced between them. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Then, well. I’m gonna...go.” The boys waved him off, and he walked home, relieved that they’d dropped the subject. Reggie was one of his best friends, his family, and getting rejected by him sounded like just about the worst thing imaginable. He could see the faces Reggie would make--the bewilderment, the panic, the guilt. Reggie would feel bad about rejecting him, like it was _Reggie’s_ fault Alex caught feelings. The crush hadn’t been intentional. But Reggie had been the first person Alex came out to, and he was the best at comforting Alex during panic attacks, and he was endlessly sweet and understanding. How was Alex not supposed to fall for him?

Meanwhile Alex was all anxiety and self-consciousness and crippling doubt, the opposite of kind of guy a person like Reggie would fall for. And, and if he’d had even a speck of doubt, Reggie treated him like he did Luke and Bobby. It indicated Reggie didn’t return his feelings, but at least also meant he hadn’t caught onto them and felt awkward. The last thing Alex wanted was for their relationship to get weird, which was why he wasn’t going to say anything. The feelings would go away eventually. Totally wouldn’t just keep exponentially increasing like they had been since they first formed. He was capable of squashing this crush. Really.

Taking that into account, he should have been able to forget the conversation with his bandmates, do his homework, and go to bed without incident. But with Alex there was always incident, so now he’s here, pacing around his room while obsessing over the situation. Which he does for two hours. Tomorrow is Monday, kicking off the week of Valentine’s Day with the holiday on Friday. If he wants to leave love notes for Reggie leading up to Valentine’s Day, now is a good time to do it. But he absolutely shouldn’t do it. The whole thing would be messy. But maybe an official rejection would help him move on. But him moving on would come at the expense of Reggie having to feel bad about the situation when he didn’t do anything wrong. But it would probably hurt Reggie more in the long run if Alex keeps pining and makes things weird between them. Maybe Alex is already on the road to Reggie piecing together his feelings and things getting weird between them. 

Oh god.

Alex collapses face-first onto his bed, groaning into his pillow. He is absolutely screwed no matter what he does, and he wants to blame Reggie for being an adorable sweetheart who is impossible not to fall in love with, but really it’s his own fault for not being in better control of his emotions. He did this to himself, and now both he and Reggie are going to suffer for it. Because as much as he already regrets it, he’s made a decision: he is going to write love notes to Reggie. If he’s going to potentially set their relationship on fire, he might as well get all his feelings out there, right? Right. Maybe. Who knows? Not Alex. Alex is just a giant gay marshmallow of a person who’s in too deep and hopefully not about to ruin the most important relationship in his life.

So, in conclusion, it’s all Luke’s fault that Alex is now sitting at his desk, normally reserved for dedicated studying, holding a gel pen in one hand while he stares at a blank piece of fancy stationery he was gifted by an aunt but never thought he’d use. He slides it aside and switches to a pencil, scribbling a rough draft on a sheet of notebook paper. Going into this, he assumed laying out his feelings would be easy. They’re abundant and painfully clear to him. But it isn’t enough to _tell_ Reggie how he feels. He needs Reggie to _feel_ it. All the while not revealing his identity, because if he was down for that kind of confrontation, he wouldn’t be writing love notes in the first place. God, he’s pathetic.

Alex writes and rewrites the same sentences, selecting words while paying careful attention to connotation the way Reggie does when analyzing poetry for class. Alex is always awestruck by how he himself can only find superficial things to talk about while Reggie generates complex insights from minor things in diction and syntax. Luke would never admit it, but Alex is pretty sure Reggie’s attention to detail when it comes to words influenced how Luke writes. If Alex wants Reggie to get just how he feels about him, he has to be precise, put in the same thought Reggie himself would in his position. Then again, Reggie would never write a love note because he has no problem flirting with people he likes. Which is why Alex knew how this would end. If Reggie liked him, he’d know.

Despite that lingering thought, he finally completes a note he’s satisfied with. Or, more accurately, satisfied with enough to give to Reggie. Reggie, who deserved perfection and was instead getting what Alex could manage for him. It’s Alex’s best attempt to balance flowery language and sincerity, wanting it to be beautiful but not cliché, meaningful but not overwhelming.

Oh god, what if Reggie reads it and thinks it’s poorly written or stupid or too much or too little? What if he throws it away? What if he makes fun of it and the person who wrote it? Alex may very well disintegrate on the spot. Luke would have to sweep up the Alex ash and carry him in a jar everywhere. Did the ash of disintegrated people have senses? He wouldn’t have a nervous system anymore, so--

And now he’s overthinking a weird metaphor. He’s going to die. The doom is on the horizon. And yet, he practices writing the note over and over until his hand stops shaking, then writes it nearly on the stationary, then slips the note into his binder. He’s doing this. Despite every ounce of his better judgment, he’s doing this. For himself, because at least then he can move on. But more importantly, for Reggie, because he deserves to know someone has a crush on him, even if he doesn’t want that person to be Alex. 


	2. February 10th

_Reggie,_

_To admire your beauty, your charisma, or your talent would be honest but do you no justice. I’d rather talk about the way your eyes light up when you serve hot takes about Star Wars, the fearlessness with which you make new friends, the dedication you put into every performance. You are so much more than most would give you credit for._

Alex is going to throw up. Not even empty his stomach, oh no, but actually up-chuck his whole stomach in the hallway, which would be incredibly embarrassing. Would embarrassment be the primary issue with literally losing his stomach? No. Is that what he’s worried about? Yes. Although at least then he could have the benefit of getting out of “this,” this being the note in his hand that he’s about to insert into Reggie’s locker. Reggie, Luke, and especially Bobby tend to slide into class at the last minute while Alex arrives at school half an hour early on the dot, so delivering the note unseen is easy. Well, the unseen part is easy. The actually _doing_ it part is less easy, because what is he _thinking_?

Reggie is his best friend. The guy he’s been hopelessly into since the epiphany hit him like a train a few months ago, and in retrospect probably before then, but his best friend first and foremost. Alex can’t start this if he can’t finish it, ie. tell Reggie he’s the one who sent him love notes, ie. reveal his feelings, ie. risk permanently screwing up their friendship. Which means not starting it, because that end result sounds terrible.

And yet.

And yet he finds himself standing in front of Reggie’s locker, holding the note so tightly it’s crinkled and mildly damp from sweat. So much for the nice stationery. And then, because he’s completely lost his mind, as formerly evidenced by him crushing on one of his best friends in the first place, he unlocks Reggie’s locker, puts the note inside, and closes it again. And it only took him ten minutes to work up the courage to do.

Now he just has to get through the next twenty without taking it back out.

Alex goes to the library for those twenty minutes, because the librarian likes him and doesn’t mind when he paces between the shelves. Between the shelves is his favorite spot to pace. He can pretend he’s just stressed with homework and not a walking gay disaster.

In what feels like minutes later, Alex hears his friends before he sees them. He pokes his head into the hallway as they stampede into it, Luke between Bobby and Reggie with his arms around them, the three laughing. Reggie says something that makes Luke rustle his hair in retaliation, but Reggie only beams. A fond smile appears on Alex’s lips as he approaches them, his hands in his hoodie pockets, hoping his jitters appear natural.

“Hey,” he says as the three go to their respective lockers and toss him return greetings. Bobby and Luke haphazardly toss in their backpacks and grab textbooks, but meanwhile, Alex can see the exact moment Reggie spots the note, Reggie’s held tilting in curiosity. Reggie snatches the note with nimble fingers, unfolding it with great care, and Alex stops breathing as Reggie’s eyes skim the page. Alex waits, not sure he’s breathing, bracing himself for Reggie to roll his eyes or laugh or throw the note away.

That reaction doesn’t come. Instead, Reggie lights up like a kid on Christmas, half bouncing in place. 

Bobby, at the locker next to him, notices first. “What’s with you?” His sight lands on the note in Reggie’s hand and an eyebrow raises as his attention goes to Alex. “Is that…”

Luke appears behind Reggie, snatching the note before Reggie can stop him.

“Hey!” Reggie reaches for the note, but Luke holds him off with one arm as Bobby hooks his chin on Luke’s other shoulder, reading along with him. Luke’s eyebrows shut up while Bobby’s gaze flicks between the note and Alex, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Luke says, “I didn’t know you were seeing someone, Reg. And a romantic, too.” His smile mirrors Bobby’s as he aims it at Alex. “Do you know, Alex?”

Alex flushes, looking down. Perhaps he didn’t think through how Bobby and Luke would likely end up reading all his mushy notes. The embarrassment is rivaled only by a pinch of irritation as he becomes aware that if anything is going to give him away, it’s going to be his stupid friends. Or really just Luke. Bobby at least has some tact, being sneaky with the smug smile he’s sending Alex while Luke is pulling him directly into it.

“I’m not,” Reggie says, and the warmth in his voice melts Alex’s annoyance. Of course, they all already know that, but they pretend to be surprised. “It’s—” He frowns. “They don’t put a name.”

Luke nudges him. “You’ve got a secret admirer.”

Reggie bites his lip, which is rude as far as Alex’s heart is concerned, and tucks the note into his binder before closing his locker.

Bobby loops his arm around Reggie’s shoulders as they walk to class. “You got any thoughts on that, Alex?” Okay, so maybe Bobby doesn’t have _that_ much tact either.

Reggie perks up. “Oh yeah! You get here early. Did you see anyone by my locker?”

“No,” Alex answers too quickly. “I—I was in the library.”

Reggie nods and hums to himself, but Luke snickers. Alex wacks him. For the first time ever, Alex is grateful his friends arrive so late, as that’s all the time Luke and Bobby have to get uncomfortably close to giving him away before class. Luke and Bobby split off for advanced algebra with Julie and Willie while Reggie and Alex go to AP English. When they enter, Flynn, Carrie, and Nick are already at their seats, talking among themselves. Nick sees them first, waving at them as they sit down, Flynn and Carrie doing the same when they notice in turn.

Soon they’re deep in discussion of _Jurassic Park_ , the book they were supposed to have finished for class that day. Catching bits of conversation from other people, Alex can tell who did or didn’t actually read the material. They keep mixing up characters, likely having watched the movie, which combined book characters for streamlined storytelling. If forced to discuss the book, those students will probably be wrong about who died and give themselves away.

When their time for swapping thoughts on the final chapters is up, Miss Dunbar stands in front of her podium with a copy of the book. “Early into this novel, Malcolm explained chaos theory in a relatively simple way and we discussed it a bit more in class. Now, I’m sure many of you already knew from pop culture how the book would end, but now that you’ve read it yourself, what statement do you think Crichton was trying to make with both the implications of chaos theory throughout the novel and the novel’s final conclusion?”

Reggie is sitting at the desk next to Alex’s, his leg bouncing and eyes flicking around the room. No one is raising their hand, and after a few more seconds of waiting, Reggie’s hand shoots into the air.

Miss Dunbar has a tight smile. “Yes, Reggie?”

Reggie drums his fingers on his desk. “Well. It seemed like he was trying to make a point about technology and the threat of going so far with it that we don’t actually understand our own systems anymore. Like, chaos theory is all about how chaos isn’t random or unpredictable, there _are_ patterns if you can zoom back far enough. But humans don’t have the time or capacity to see those patterns in a lot of systems like weather. And anyway, it’s about how really tiny things we can’t and won’t notice will make a big difference when repeating things. Jurassic Park—the place, not the book itself—is a lens for viewing that dynamic, most significantly in how Dr. Wu himself doesn’t entirely understand what his computer systems are doing to create the dinosaurs. But the point is, no matter how complex of systems they make, they can never predict everything that could happen, and that means something like creating dinosaurs again, which are a highly complex system taken out of their natural context, is always going to be unpredictable, because those involved didn’t and couldn’t understand what they were doing. You see it in the DNA splicing and how as a result the dinosaurs changed sexes in order to persist. But the thing is, I’m not sure I really agree with Crichton’s conclusions about scientific knowledge. Or I guess more like I do agree with the conclusions but disagree with the idea that this particular situation supports that conclusion. The whole thing about the combination of frog DNA and dinosaur DNA allowing the dinosaurs to change sex in order to reproduce got me to do some extra reading on _Jurassic Park_ from the perspective of modern science, and—”

“Oh my god, will you shut up?” snaps Marcus, a kid across the room. He’s glaring at Reggie. “No one asked for your dissertation.” A few kids chuckle as Reggie slides lower in his seat, wringing his hands.

“I’m surprised you even know what dissertation _means_ ,” Carrie says, voice low and sharp. “Not that it matters, since you’re clearly just mad you don’t have any thoughts on it of your own. Or thoughts in general.” She smiles, as pretty as she is vicious.

“I can handle it, Carrie,” Miss Dunbar interjects, able to see Carrie was not about to back down. “Marcus, we do not tell people to shut up.” She takes off her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “That being said, Reggie, if you have a point, please make it.”

Reggie flushes, and the embarrassment on his face makes Alex’s hands curl into fists beneath his desk. “Uh. I forgot.” He’s lying and everyone knows it, but Miss Dunbar continues with the lesson as if that isn’t true.

At the end of class, as everyone is packing up, Miss Dunbar says, “Remember, presentations are all week, but the order is random, so be prepared to go tomorrow.”

As the students pile into the hallway, Carrie is the first to bring up the incident. “Don’t let Marcus get to you. I’ve always been in at least one class with him since kindergarten and he has never had a single original thought in his life.”

“What were you going to say?” Alex says, wrapping an arm around Reggie’s shoulders. “Before you got cut off.”

Reggie perks up. “Well—I mean, do you really care?”

Alex gives him a squeeze. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t care.”

“I want to know, too,” Nick says before getting distracted by Flynn, who’s looking unresponsively ahead. “Flynn? You okay?”

Carrie chuckles. “Probably planning how to avenge Reggie’s honor.”

Flynn sends Carrie a small smile. “For legal purposes, I am planning nothing.”

Both Alex and Nick’s eyebrows shoot up. “Legal purposes?” Alex asks.

“I’m not bailing you out of jail,” Nick says even though they all know he would be the first to bail out any of them.

“Vengeance really isn’t necessary,” Reggie says.

Flynn laughs before grabbing Carrie’s hand. “Come on, you’re helping.” With a wave over their shoulders, they veer off down a different hallway.

“Do you think we should be worried?” Alex says, as if the answer is going to have any effect on his concern.

“Probably,” Nick says. “But as far as we’re aware, Flynn isn’t planning anything. So, _Jurassic Park_ hot take?”

“Oh yeah,” Reggie says as he regains his smile. “So uh, I was going to get into how some of the stuff Crichton thought would happen probably wouldn’t, but my main thing was going to be how in a big way, the dinosaurs weren’t the unpredictable system—humans were. You see…” Reggie rambled on from there, backing up his argument with an impressive recollection of the book. He must have gone back and reread to be able to provide this much evidence for his viewpoint, and the fact that his thoughts were sidetracked and wasted by a jerk makes Alex’s blood boil.

Alex is so invested in Reggie’s _Jurassic Park_ hot takes that he doesn’t realize until Reggie finishes what Miss Dunbar said about presentations. “What presentations was she talking about?” Alex asks as a cool dread settles over him.

“The poem analyses,” Reggie says. “We’re each presenting our analysis of our assigned poem.”

“Shit,” Alex says, dropping his arm from Reggie’s shoulders so he can claw at his own hair. “I completely forgot. I don’t know how I—I _never_ miss an assignment. I must have forgotten to put it in my planner or something. I’m so screwed.”

“Hey, Alex,” Reggie says, taking Alex’s hands as they reach Alex’s locker. His hands are smaller and warmer than Alex’s, and the sensation of Reggie’s skin sticks him with a small amount of relief and an entirely different kind of nerves. “You’re going to be fine.”

“No, I’m not,” Alex says. “I’m not like you. All my thoughts on things we read for class are always surface-level, this is a big project, and it needs to be ready for _tomorrow_. I’m going to fail the assignment and then fail the class and then I won’t get into college and then—”

“Stop,” Reggie says, firmer this time. “I’m not going to let you fail, okay?”

“But I—”

“I’ll help you after school,” Reggie says. “You’ll get an A like always. I promise.” He releases one hand to make a cross over his heart before retaking it. “Scout’s honor.”

Alex laughs. “That’s not a scout thing, and you weren’t in the Boy Scouts anyway.” Despite his protests, the humor helps him calm down. “Are you—are you sure? Because you have your own stuff to be working on, I don’t want to—”

“Of course,” Reggie says, giving him a _look_. “You’re my best friend. The answer to helping is always yes.”

Which is exactly why Alex is always careful about accepting Reggie’s help. Reggie is exactly the kind of person who would set himself on fire to keep someone else warm, and Alex admires the selflessness, but it also makes him worry about Reggie. His turmoil over potentially taking too much of Reggie’s time serves as a useful distraction from “best friend.” He should be happy with that. Alex _likes_ being Reggie’s best friend, likes knowing he’s important to him. He just—wants it to be a little different.

“Okay,” Alex says, choosing to trust his friend.

“Cool,” Reggie says, bouncing on the heels of his feet. He drops Alex’s hand in the process, and Alex pretends he doesn’t notice or care. Soon after they’re headed on to their next classes, and in Alex’s anticipation for after school, lunch comes what feels like moments later. Mere seconds were needed to inform Alex he was naive to think the discussion at Reggie’s locker would be the end of his problems.

Julie is the last to plop down with her lunch tray. Normally they don’t get everyone at once. The lunch tables are circles with two attached benches only meant to hold eight people, so with everyone present, sliding over to accommodate Julie squishes Alex and Reggie together, Reggie nearly sliding off the other end of the bench. Alex flexes his hand, itching to wrap an arm around Reggie to secure him upright, but he keeps his hand in his lap.

“Hey Reggie,” Julie says as she dunks a fry in ketchup. Alex does _not_ appreciate the look on her face. “I hear you’ve got a secret admirer.” She wiggles her eyebrow.

Alex glares at Luke, who shrugs with an only partially apologetic smile. Alex knows he doesn’t really have the right to be mad, knowing Reggie would have told them all anyway, but still. Meanwhile, red is creeping up Reggie’ neck, but he can’t keep the goofy smile off his face, and the sight makes Alex’s anger fade away until he too is smiling.

Carrie smiles. “Do you have any suspicions as to who it is?”

“Maybe it was Tyler Doyle,” Willie says, hiding their amusement behind one of the microwave burritos they brought for lunch. “He sure does ask for your notes a lot.”

“It wasn’t Tyler,” Nick snaps, earning him a combination of strange and curious looks from his friends. He blushes, picking at his food. “I, um. I just know it wasn’t, okay?”

“Well whoever it is,” Julie says, rescuing Nick from his outburst, “I’m sure they’re sweet. Luke said the note was very…” She drums her fingertips on the table. “What word did you use?”

“Simpular,” Luke says through a bite of burger, far too proudly according to Alex.

“That’s not—okay,” Alex says, and even though the word is dumb, he hopes no one can tell how warm his face is.

Carrie wrinkles her nose. “That’s an awful word.”

“I don’t know, I kind of like it,” Nick says.

“And that terrible taste is why I dumped you,” Carrie says.

Nick raises his eyebrows. “I thought it was because you’re a lesbian.”

Carrie waves him off. “Do we get to read the note?”

“Yes!” Luke says.

“Seems kind of private,” Alex offers, afraid to push too hard lest he draw suspicion.

“It _is_ private,” Reggie says, cheeks pink.

“You don’t have to share,” Julie says, swatting Luke when he starts giving Reggie puppy-dog eyes.

“Well,” Reggie says before biting his lip. He should be banned from biting his lip. “Fine, but only _I’m_ touching it,” he says as he takes it out of his binder, handling it as if it were fragile. Alex’s heart is in his throat as Reggie reads it allowed for the table. Beside Alex, Carrie and Julie cling to each other, visibly melting, and he can’t help but feel pride over having gotten his emotions across. Better yet, and the part that makes Alex’s entire body buzz, Reggie is grinning so wide it barely fits on his face, his leg bouncing beneath the table, like it’s the only place he can think to put his joyful energy. The movement is making him move so much Alex gives in and wraps an arm around his waist to keep him on the bench. Reggie barely seems to notice as he finishes reading, unlike Luke and Bobby, who smirk but otherwise remain silent.

“See?” Luke says, gesturing at the note. “Simple.”

“How was that simple?” Nick asks.

“You guys didn’t like simpular, so simple it is,” Luke says.

Julie facepalms with a groan.

“But that’s already a word that has nothing to do with simping,” Alex says.

Luke blinks, once, twice, three times. “Oh yeah.”

“You should know what, seeing as you’re so simple-minded,” Carrie says.

Nick pokes her in the side. “Be nice.”

“He deserved that,” she says, waving at Luke.

Nick crosses his arms. “If you keep being mean, I’ll ruffle your hair.”

“Nick Dansforth-Evans, if you touch my hair I will kill you.”

“I’ll help hide the body,” Willie says, brushing back his hair. “Dirty Candi loyalty.” He and Carrie fist bump.

Nick sighs in defeat as he wraps an arm around his best friend. Carrie rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling.

“Sooo,” Julie says, “how are you going to find your mystery person?”

Reggie blinks slowly, as if he didn’t think about it. “I, um. I’m not sure.”

“Are you sure finding them is a good idea?” asks Flynn, speaking up for the first time in the conversation. “Why are they leaving notes instead of just talking to you?”

“To be cute?” Julie says.

“Because they’re a coward?” Bobby says. 

Luke elbows Bobby on Alex’s behalf, Bobby snickering.

Flynn continues, “I don’t want to be a downer, but—I’m just saying, maybe don’t get hopes too high for a stranger. They could be some random weirdo.”

Reggie’s face falls, and he tries to cover it while he replaces the note in his binder. When he sits back up, Alex, who still has his arm around him, gives him a light squeeze, receiving a small smile in return.

Flynn’s face softens. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Yeah, I know,” Reggie says, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “I appreciate it.” A silent wave of reassurance is passed between them. While Reggie worries about being too optimistic, Flynn worries about being too much of a cynic, and though they don’t hang out much, that was something they bonded over.

From there, the conversation drifts to other topics, and the whole time, Alex can’t help but think that he, too, hopes Reggie won’t get hurt.

“So what poem are you doing for class?” Reggie asks as he and Alex drop their backpacks beside Reggie’s bed after school. They sit with their backs against the headboard as Alex opens his laptop.

“ _Love’s Philosophy_ by Percy Bysshe Shelley,” Alex says, hating this process before it’s even begun. He hasn’t so much as read the poem yet.

“Oh, I think I know that one!” Reggie says. He nods in confirmation when Alex hands him a copy of the poem and the assignment handout. “Yeah, I do. This’ll be easy!”

“No it won’t,” Alex mutters. “You can’t do it for me, but I don’t know anything about this on my own.”

Reggie gives his hand a short squeeze. “I’ll help you through it. Besides, you could have gotten a poem that’s way more complicated than this one.”

Alex’s chest loosens at that, but then he reads the poem.

_The fountains mingle with the river_

_And the rivers with the ocean_

_The winds of heaven mix for ever_

_With a sweet emotion_

_Nothing in this world is single;_

_All things by a law divine_

_In one spirit meet and mingle_

_Why not I with thine?—_

_See the mountains kiss high heaven_

_And the waves clasp one another;_

_No sister-flower would be forgiven_

_If it disdained its brother;_

_And the sunlight clasps the earth_

_And the moonbeams kiss the sea;_

_What is all this sweet work worth_

_If thou kiss not me?_

This is Reggie’s idea of uncomplicated? The metaphors are giving Alex a headache and he hasn’t even tried deciphering them yet. But maybe this _is_ an easy poem and it’s just Alex who doesn’t get it. God, Reggie is going to think he’s such an idiot.

“Hey,” Reggie says, touching his hand. “We can go through it line by line together. It’s not the end of the world.”

But Alex feels stupid for even feeling like what should be an easy poem analysis is the end of the world. Maybe Reggie can sense that, because he links their fingers together, clasping their hands like he’s making a silent promise. He smiles at Alex, and Alex can almost forget how much he hates English class, because it makes Reggie happy, and that means there must be some good in it.

As promised, Reggie walks Alex through every line of the poem. With Reggie’s guidance, Alex picks out the metaphors, finds the commonalities between them, and pieces together their purpose both individually and as a whole. Reggie doesn’t let go of his hand the whole time, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of Alex’s hand to keep him calm. While Alex types one-handed notes, Reggie has him using words like ‘diction’ and ‘syntax’ and ‘connotation,’ and for the first time he actually knows what they mean and how they alter and emphasize meaning. Maybe he won’t be able to get as in-depth with his next poem reading as Reggie would, but he’s learning to find the substance in the details.

“Do you want to run through your presentation?” Reggie asks as Alex finishes making his slides.

“No, that’s okay,” Alex says. “I can do it later.” Normally he would practice presenting for Reggie and sometimes Luke and Bobby as well, over and over until he felt as confident as he was capable of feeling. But this time completing Alex’s presentation took hours and the sun is disappearing below the horizon, and Alex wants to spend some non-school time with Reggie before he has to go home.

Out of nowhere, Reggie says, “Hey, did you know this poem is set to music sometimes?”

“What, like a song?” Alex says, even though, duh, of course like a song.

Reggie nods, undeterred by the obviousness of Alex’s question. “I can play it for you, if you want.”

Alex swallows. Reggie is offering to sing him a romantic poem. This is fine. He gives a single curt nod, a wide grin breaking out on Reggie’s face in response. Reggie bounces off the bed, sitting down at the keyboard in the corner of the room. All their other instruments are in the studio, but since there’s limited space, Reggie is normally on bass, and the keyboard is easily transportable, he keeps it in his room. Besides, Reggie tends to figure out melodies on keyboard when he’s song-writing.

As Reggie launches into singing _Love’s Philosophy_ , several thoughts occur to Alex. That Reggie knows all the words without looking them up. That he knows the _music_ without looking it up. That Reggie was definitely downplaying his familiarity with the poem earlier because he must have played it many times before.

And yet, instead of focusing on any of those realizations, Alex is swept up in the sight and sound of Reggie. Although Alex had never been good at picking up the finer points of poetry, Reggie is the one place the small details matter and make sense to him. The flex of his fingers as they fly across the keyboard. The quirk of his eyebrow and the corner of his mouth when a note lands just how he wanted it to. The slight strain of his voice as he sings in a key higher than he’s used to. To Alex, all of Reggie’s details shine with overwhelming clarity.

Reggie slows as he reaches the final lines of the poem, no longer lost in his own little world as his eyes fall on Alex.

_“And the sunlight clasps the earth_

_And the moonbeams kiss the sea;_

_What is all this sweet work worth_

_If thou kiss not me?”_

And then Reggie _winks_ , presumably as a personal attack on Alex’s sanity. Despite Alex’s best efforts, he blushes and looks down. When he chances a glance back up, Reggie is returning to the bed with a twinkle in his eye.

“Did you like it?” Reggie asks, sinking into the bed beside him. Their shoulders are pressed together, and Alex is not sure if he’s still breathing.

“Yeah,” Alex says, somehow managing to fit a voice crack into a single syllable.

Reggie doesn’t respond, but he’s pleased.

“Hey, uh—” Alex says. ‘And the moonbeams kiss the sea’ is stuck in his head. Maybe to distract from ‘If thou kiss not me?’ but he’ll never admit it, even to himself. “We haven’t gone star-gazing in awhile. You want to?”

Reggie grabs Alex’s hand and leaps up, bringing Alex to his feet along with him. “Definitely. It’s been forever.” In reality, it has only been a couple weeks, but Alex doesn’t correct him. After all, star-gazing with Reggie is one of Alex’s favorite activities.

Reggie half drags Alex to the door that opens onto the flat part of Reggie’s roof, as if afraid Alex wouldn’t come otherwise despite Alex suggesting it. Once outside, they lay on their backs, side by side. Each of them uses the opposite hand as a pillow, the ones that touch laced together. Reggie has always been like that, holding hands with everyone at every opportunity, like he needs the contact to anchor him to the ground. Physical contact soothes Alex’s anxiety, so it works out. The night is chilly, but Reggie’s hand is warm enough that Alex doesn’t even think about it.

“What constellations can you see?” Alex asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

Reggie hums as he raises their linked hands, guiding Alex to point at about a dozen stars. “Canis Major is the easiest to see right now. It’s supposed to be the dog following Orion in Greek mythology. Plus it’s been called ‘the dog with the blazing face’ by Manilius, the Roman poet, because—you see that star there? Kind of like it's in the dog’s mouth? That’s Sirius, the brightest star in the sky. But anyway, that’s not the cool part. The cool part is that it’s associated with Laelaps, the fastest dog in the world, destined to catch anything it changes. What happened was Zeus—” Reggie cuts off, dropping their hands from where he was pointing out Sirius. “Sorry.”

Alex frowns, rolling his head to face Reggie. “For what?”

Reggie removes his hand from Alex’s and the other from under his head, playing with his fingers. “Rambling again.”

“You weren’t rambling,” Alex says. “You were telling me something.”

Reggie shrugs. “You didn’t ask.”

“Yes I did.”

“About the constellations, not about all the stories and stuff.”

Alex pushes down the urge to touch Reggie. Reggie’s very physically affectionate, so if he pulls away first, he’s best left alone until he reaches out again. “I _want_ to hear the stories, Reg. I—I want to hear everything you have to say.”

Reggie glances at him, suspicious. “Are you sure? I don’t—I don’t want to be annoying.”

“You have _never_ annoyed me, Reginald,” Alex says. In these situations, humor is sincerity to Reggie. “Some people—they talk even when they have nothing to say. They talk just to fill space. You talk to improve upon it.”

Reggie’s eyes are glassy in the moonlight. “Yeah?”

Alex nods. “Yeah.”

Reggie smiles, then bites his lip. “Can I…”

He doesn’t need to finish. Alex gestures with his free hand and Reggie scoots over to him, curling into Alex’s side with his head on his chest, an arm draped around his torso. Alex wraps an arm around Reggie, wishing for a moment he could protect Reggie from every person who ever made him feel like he should be silent.

“What were you saying about Laelaps?” Alex says.

Reggie has regained his enthusiasm when he speaks again. “Zeus gifted Laelaps to Europa, and it was eventually passed down to Cephalus. Cephalus took Laelaps hunting for a fox that was destined to never be caught. Zeus saw that the race between Laelaps and the fox had no end in sight, so he turned them both to stone and put Laelaps in the sky.”

“That’s...kind of depressing,” Alex says. “Is there supposed to be a message there?”

Reggie shrugs. “I don’t know. Paradox of perfection, maybe. Laelaps and the fox are both supposed to be unstoppable but they can’t both win. You can’t be perfect and also meet your match.”

Alex’s attention is pulled from Canis Major to the boy tucked into his arm. “Probably. But I hope it’s wrong.”

“Why?” Reggie asks.

“I don’t want you to have to settle.”

Reggie shifts his head to look up at him, and Alex can see the exact moment his meaning registers. Reggie’s mouth opens, but he doesn’t speak, and his blush glows as he tucks his head back against Alex’s chest. He mumbles, “I’m not perfect.” Before Alex can retort, he adds. “Do you think—do you think Flynn is right? That the person who wrote the note is gonna be...I don’t know.”

Catholic conditioning almost has Alex praying Reggie doesn’t feel his heart rate pick up. Almost. “I...I think it’s good to be realistic,” he says, which isn’t really an answer, but Reggie doesn’t call him on it.

Reggie hums, his thoughts evading Alex, so long passing that Alex thinks he’s not going to respond. Then, “I hope I like them.” He pauses, his voices dropping to a whisper. “No one has ever liked me before.”

On a surface level, it’s untrue. Loads of people have asked out Reggie, and he’s been on more dates than any of them. But Alex knows what he means. They like how he looks, how he flirts, how he’s in a band. Superficial traits. _Replaceable_ traits. They don’t like all the distinctions that come with them, that come with _Reggie_.

“I like you,” Alex says.

Reggie laughs. “Yeah, I know, Lex. We’re best friends.”

_That’s not what I meant_ , he wants to say, and he almost does. Almost ends this thing prematurely and lays out his feelings right then. But the words get trapped in his throat, and all he can get out is, “And we always will be.”

Reggie pokes Alex’s stomach. “Alex?”

“Yeah?”

With a teasing tone, he responds, “I like you too.”

Alex rolls his eyes, but his chest is tight. Because right now, all he wants is for Reggie to mean those words in the same way Alex does. And it kills him that he probably doesn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [isn't_that_wizard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isnt_that_wizard) for letting me reference her character Tyler, who will matter more later. If y'all haven't read her [series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113383) with him and Nick, you absolutely should, it's pure adorable fluff.


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